


Turning Point

by idiotbrothers



Category: Ozark (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Episode Fix-it, Family Dynamics, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 16:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idiotbrothers/pseuds/idiotbrothers
Summary: Alternate ending to episode 1x09. Russ and Boyd's mission is aborted, Ruth is quick on her feet, and Petty gets knocked down a peg. Nobody dies!





	Turning Point

Russ grabbed the railing and hoisted himself onto the dock, helping Boyd up after him. He was just taking a deep breath, feeling for the gun tucked into his waistband to reassure himself, when the sound of Ruth’s voice made him startle.

“You don’t want to do this.”

Ruth was blocking their path forward, a rifle held steady in her hands.

“The fuck’re you doin’, Ruth,” Boyd blustered, anger clear in his voice.

Russ didn’t have the energy for anger anymore, had been internally struggling against desperation and confusion and deep, deep sadness for the past few hours. All he knew, at the core of his being, was that he needed to keep his boys safe. He would do anything imaginable to that end. 

“I’m stopping you from making a huge mistake,” Ruth said, though Russ could hear the tremor in her voice as she spoke. He and Ruth had more in common than he’d once thought, the both of them always throwing up smoke screens to hide their vulnerabilities.

“Don’t move, or I swear to Christ I’ll shoot,” Ruth exclaimed, and Russ realized that Boyd had been reaching for his gun.

“Leave it, Boyd,” Russ muttered, and Boyd frowned at each of them in turn, but dropped his hand. 

“We need that money, Ruth,” Russ said quietly. “We _need_ it. It's the only way we can start over, somewhere far away from here.” 

“ _We_ don’t need to start over. You do. Me and the boys are doing just fine right where we are.” 

“Bullshit,” Russ hissed defensively. “Wyatt’s never going to college if we keep on like this. Three would be better off, too; wouldn’t need to steal n’ cheat anymore to get through life.” 

“Even if you got away with it, that life would be a fuckin’ lie. Built on someone else’s dirty money. Use your fuckin’ head, Russ! None of you would be safe; they’d figure it out!” 

Russ gritted his teeth, shook his head. He needed there to be a solution; some way for him to leave the waking nightmare he’d found himself in behind. He needed to protect his sons from it, to ferry them away from the lake and Martin Byrde’s circus of misery and the goddamn motherfucking feds sniffing around every inch of the place. 

“I know you feel like you have to run,” Ruth continued, almost soothingly now, an observation that made Russ’s jaw tighten, “But running is gonna get you killed. Please, for Wyatt’s sake, and Three’s, stay. Stay and fight this.” 

“You want us to fight the feds, Ruth?” Boyd asked scornfully. “They’ll do anything to catch Byrde. They’ll fuck us all over to get to him.”

Just then, a movement in Russ’s periphery made him whip around, pulling his gun out in one swift movement and training it on whoever was approaching them.

It was Petty.

The sight of the gun made him stop in his tracks, his hands held up. “I’d highly advise against pulling a gun on a federal agent,” he said, in that awful, repulsively disaffected voice of his. Tremors wracked Russ’s body, and the anger that had leaked out of him earlier returned in a blinding rush.

“Shut your whore mouth,” Boyd said out of nowhere, and Russ realized his brother’s gun was also pointed at Petty.

“Try anything, and we’ll pepper you full of holes,” Ruth emphasized, and when Russ glanced at her, he was surprised to see that she too had Petty in her sights. She’d stepped closer to Boyd and Russ so that they were one unit again, three Langmores armed with guns versus one puppet-master armed with words.

“What the fuck are you doing here,” Russ asked him in a strained voice. He couldn’t bear to look at his face, instead fixing his eyes on his chest. _Aim for the heart_. 

“I had a bad feeling,” Petty said. “What were you planning to do tonight, Langmore? I thought I told you to stay the hell away from- "  

“He don’t take orders from you,” Boyd spat. “You can’t control him anymore.” 

“Oh, can’t I? What’s a worthless fucking redneck like you gonna do about it?” He took a step towards them, and Ruth immediately fired a warning shot, the sound of it deafening in the still night.

“Stay. Back.”

Russ looked at her again, registered the fury on her young face and wondered why, why would she risk getting in trouble with the FBI for his sake? When he’d never been a good uncle to her, had always been too cowardly to protect her from Cade, and later, too self-centered to appreciate everything she did for their family. At times she was the only goddamn thing holding them together.

“Why,” Russ uttered aloud, his voice little more than a whisper.

Ruth glanced at him for only a moment before she returned her steely gaze to Petty. “My uncle ain’t a fuckin’ rat. What’d you threaten him with?” 

“Mind your own business, little girl,” Petty said icily.

“Their business is my business.”

“Ruth,” Russ started, but she ignored him. 

“The Byrdes are up there in the Blue Cat right now, no way they didn’t hear that gunshot. Marty or Wendy will be down here any second. And we have every reason to blow your cover, tell ‘em all about the FBI agent that’s been up their asses this whole time.” 

Petty scowled at her, and she sneered right back. “So I’ll make this quick. You’re gonna forget whatever it is you have on Russ. Destroy any evidence, if you’ve got it. And if you come near any of us again, I’ll spill the whole thing to Marty, and his guard will be up so high your bosses will take you off the case.” 

Petty looked furious, his hands clenching into tight fists. “And how do I know you won’t tell him anyway?” 

“I’ll tell you how. I’m playin’ the long game with him. Russ and Boyd here,” she nodded at them, “wanted to kill him and take his money tonight. But Marty’s not stupid; he plans for these things, he’s got predictions and backup plans and shit. If we’re ever gonna get that money, we’re gonna have to work for it. Wait him out, get him to trust me with important things. I’m already makin’ good progress. Now why would I want to set myself back by havin’ him clam up and keep to himself, watching for feds on every corner? Unless, of course, I have no other choice.” 

Russ stared at her in awe, thinking, not for the first time, that she was possibly the smartest of all of them; maybe even smarter than Wyatt. She had a knack for staying two steps ahead of everyone around her. Not even her daddy could say that. 

“C’mon then,” she was saying, “Cough it up.” 

“He’s got a... a voice recording,” Russ offered, his voice cowed and hesitant. 

Ruth glared impatiently at Petty until he produced his cell phone. 

“Drop it,” Ruth demanded, and he complied, kicking it over to them. Boyd bent to pick it up, handing it to Russ.

“Did you save it anywhere else?” Once again, Ruth was anticipating something that hadn’t even crossed Russ’s mind.

Petty’s eyebrow twitched, annoyance pulling at his mouth. “No.” 

“You’re lying.” 

“I’m not. I... didn’t actually intend to use it.” 

Russ bulldozed over that statement, asking, “What about the wire? Could you use any of  _those_ recordings against me?” He still couldn’t look at him. 

“Those were all fucking useless, believe me.” 

Suddenly, Marty’s distant voice interrupted them. “Hello? Someone out there?” 

“Fuck,” Petty grunted. “Are we finished here?” 

“Wait,” Boyd said, “The other thing.” He gave Russ a knowing look, then abruptly redirected his attention to Petty. “If you tell anyone, I’ll shoot your fuckin’ face off. I don’t give a flyin’ fuck who you are.” 

Petty was silent for a second, then said, in a blank voice, “I won’t tell anyone.” 

Marty’s voice was getting closer. “Hello?” 

“Fuck off,” Ruth whispered at Petty, finally lowering her gun. He did just that, disappearing into the forest so quickly that it was like he was never there. Russ slipped Petty’s phone into his pocket, and tucked his gun safely back into his waistband. Boyd did the same, so that when Marty made it onto the dock, the only one of them who was still holding a gun was Ruth. 

Marty blinked at the three of them in bewilderment, giving Ruth’s rifle a particularly long stare. “Ruth... What’s going on here? Why did I hear a gunshot?” 

“Don’t worry about it, Marty. Target practice.” 

“On the docks? In the middle of the night?” 

“Langmore tradition. We pass a gun around and take turns shooting at buoys.” 

“Isn’t that dangerous? What if you hit one of the boats?” 

“A little splintered wood never hurt nobody.”

“Ain’t no thing to these rich folk,” Boyd chimed in. 

“Right,” Ruth grinned. “‘sides, we’re crack shots.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” Marty said, his brow still furrowed. He glanced at Russ, who remained quiet, bowing his head to stare at the worn tips of his boots. 

“Well, uh. If I can ask you for a favor... Do you mind... not doing that, tonight? Or any other night, really, since you might wake the patrons, or someone might call the police, which - " He stopped himself from rambling further, cleared his throat. He seemed even more tightly wound than usual. “Anyway. I’m trying to finish up some paperwork, and it’d be, um. Distracting. To say the least.” 

“Sure thing, Marty. We’ll get out of your hair. But you owe me one.” 

Marty just sighed and turned to head back up to the Blue Cat, Ruth watching him as he left. As soon as he was out of earshot, she glared at Russ and Boyd. “Don’t think I’m not still pissed at you both for nearly fucking this all up.” 

“We’re sorry, Ruthie,” Boyd said sheepishly. “We wasn’t thinkin’ straight.” 

“Damn right you weren’t. From now on, you trust that I know what I’m doing. Understand?”

Boyd nodded, clapped her on the shoulder. 

“Jesus, you really got that agent good. The look on the son of a bitch’s face...” 

Ruth just smiled thinly. “Russ,” she said, “We on the same page?” 

Russ dragged himself out of his stupor and swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he said.

Ruth looked taken aback, despite herself. “You don’t need to thank me,” she said gruffly. “We’re family.” 

“Family don’t mean shit if they treat you like you don’t belong. I’m sorry, Ruth. I’m so sorry.” 

Her face softened, and she set the rifle gently on the ground. Without saying anything, she held her arms open, and Russ swept her into a crushing hug, squeezing his eyes tightly shut and willing the tears down, because he was weak enough as it was without bawling like a fucking baby after his niece had just saved his life.

“It’s okay, Uncle Russ,” Ruth breathed. “We’re all gonna be okay.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if this scenario I concocted is even remotely plausible, but I hope someone reads this and enjoys it anyway. I just finished watching both seasons and I'm still upset about how season 1 ended.


End file.
